


Follow You into the Dark

by Chibiobiwan



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Attempted Rape, Burnt Marshmellow Qui-Gon, Coruscant (Star Wars), Early Republic Era, Early Space Travel, Friends to Lovers, Homeless Obi-Wan, Human!Obi-Wan, Impending timeskips, M/M, Orphan Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon attracts pathetic lifeforms even as a vampire, Strangers to Friends, Vampire AU, Vampire!Qui-Gon, You saved my life, angst with a dash of humor, now you have to deal with me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24482947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibiobiwan/pseuds/Chibiobiwan
Summary: Shadows in the city are always changing.After a downpour of bad luck, Obi-Wan is saved by a vampire who wants nothing to do with him. Unfortunately for Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan is more stubborn than wise and becomes an unanticipated companion.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Vampire AU - Relationship, slow burn - Relationship
Comments: 96
Kudos: 142
Collections: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan May the Fourth be With You Prompt Meme





	1. City Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the wonderful and most patient LadyDisdayne for betaing this fic for me. I didn't finish in time for the end of the May the Fourth Be With You Challenge so this story is going to be a wip. Please pay attention to warnings as in this chapter there is attempted rape, murder most foul, and dealing with the vulnerability of being homeless.

A shadow flickered across the pavement out of the corner of Obi-Wan’s eye. He resisted the urge to tug down his hood further and quicken his pace, if he looked afraid it would only make it worse. Confidence. That’s what he needed to exude. If they thought he might be dangerous then they might leave him alone.

The footsteps behind him quickened all the same. He needed to get to somewhere more populated, where there was a chance that they might hesitate, but all the shops had shut down hours ago and the empty street echoed hollowly.

He’d need to outrun them, but trusting that he’d be faster wasn’t enough. If he was caught he had no trust in his ability to fight back. He’d felt unsteady all day, and he badly wished that he hadn’t lost his backpack and few remaining credits to thugs.

Another elongated shadow moved, making Obi-Wan’s heart skip a beat. They were getting closer, silently gaining on him. If he didn’t run now, he wouldn’t be able to run at all.

Obi-Wan waited until the last possible second before abruptly veering into an alley that he prayed would split off into the maze of tall buildings and dark alleyways that Coruscant was known for. He flung himself through the narrow passage, even as he heard startled shouts and thundering footsteps close behind him. 

There! He swung around the corner as he turned down another alley, even more narrow than the first and lined by the black lumps of trash. Obi-Wan stumbled, slipping on the rank liquid that coated the duracrete beneath him. He caught himself against the wall and shoved away with renewed panic as he heard the men behind him. 

“He went this way!”

Obi-Wan swerved around another corner and mentally swore as the alley came to an abrupt end with only one way to turn. He didn’t slow, instead choosing to smash against the wall and used his momentum to push off again at full speed with only a grunt of pain. He couldn’t see any more turn-offs, but he could see the street at the end of the alley. If he could make it that far, then maybe, just maybe he could escape.

Obi-Wan felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle right before he felt the shove of a hand clasping the back of his poncho.

“No!” Obi-Wan pushed forward, trying to escape even as he was pulled back and the rough grasp turned into a tackle.

The breath was knocked out of him as he hit the pavement, cutting his cheek and chin as the man above him laughed. He gagged at the stink of rotting food and waste stinging his nose as he tried to breathe under the man’s weight. 

“Fucker almost got away. Let’s see what we’ve caught, aye boys?”

Obi-Wan struggled as he was flipped around, trying to escape or at least keep the man’s rough hands off him. The low life’s pupils were shot out, making his eyes look pure black in the shadow of the alley and as he leaned in to smell Obi-Wan, his breath stank of spice.

“Let me go!” Obi-Wan didn’t think for one moment that the man would do so, but he had to try. “I don’t have any money, just let me go.”

“Hear that? Guess we’ve just wasted our time,” A skeleton thin man behind them in the alley laughed sarcastically, “Better just let him go then.”

The man holding on to him had no trouble dragging Obi-Wan up as he stood, as bulky and strong as the others were wiry and thin.

Obi-Wan’s vision flashed white as the man slammed him against the wall, and he swore he could see yet another shadow closing in.

“Please— I don’t have anything.” Obi-Wan choked out, fear starting to settle deep into his chest.

“You’re still wearing clothes, aren’t ‘cha?” One of the watchers spat out, while his captour’s vice-like grip pushed Obi-Wan’s face up against the wall.

One of the thugs leaned into close, almost pressed against the two of them, “I think with a pretty face like yours we can figure something out.”

The man holding him shifted his grip, allowing one hand to trail its way down Obi-Wan’s abdomen, pushing under his poncho. With renewed panic, Obi-Wan struggled, pulling and twisting, trying to somehow break the man’s hold, but the thug had skill and, no doubt, experience, and Obi-Wan hadn’t eaten in two days.“Hurry up, I’m fuckin’ hard,” One of the other men called. Behind them, Obi-Wan could see the shadow spread until it filled the alley.

Obi-Wan tried to kick out, desperate to get any distance he could, but the man only used the movement to press closer and spread Obi-Wan’s legs.

“Can’t rush these things—I like ‘em when they fight.”

“So do I,” The shadow growled, startling the gang.

“What the fu—” The man’s voice was cut off as he was thrown into the air and against the wall. The other men froze at the heavy thump and crack of bone.

“Kill him!” Obi-Wan’s capturer released him, grabbing for a weapon he hadn’t bothered with earlier, but it was too late, the shadow had already captured the next one and used his body as a barrier against the blaster. 

Obi-Wan sank to the ground and scrambled away as the shadow engulfed its last victim. The man flailed beneath the steel like hold, his eyes searching with panic even as he cried out silently for help. Obi-Wan couldn’t manage to look away even as he saw the strength of his attacker fade in the arms of the shadow until at last there was nothing left.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how much time had passed by the time the body was dropped to the pavement, it’s neck exposed and painted red with the faintest pulse of blood. 

The shadow searched the three bodies briefly, grabbing wallets and valuables from them both before turning its gaze on Obi-Wan.

The contrast between the darkness surrounding them and the light of the vast blue eyes pinned Obi-Wan where he was, like a fly caught in a web.

“Go home,” The shadow growled as it snapped its cloak, leaving Obi-Wan behind. “The streets are no place for someone like you.”

The streets were the only thing he had left.

Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet and followed.

* * *

It was impossible not to notice the boy following him. Qui-Gon couldn’t imagine why he would, it could not have been more blatantly obvious, the threat that he posed to any human, let alone a defenseless one. He stalked through the streets, always keeping to the shadows where he belonged. A few dead bodies in a city the size of Coruscant would hardly draw the attention of a bounty hunter right away, but luck had hardly been on his side of late.

The boy was still following him when he neared the sewers’ entrance, surprisingly skilled at doing so, and Qui-Gon considered doubling back and giving him a bit of a scare. The boy was too foolish and alone to walk the streets. He should have been home hours ago. But in the end, Qui-Gon didn’t have the heart for it, he’d eaten his fill that night and wanted to retreat to ruminate in solitude. It wouldn’t matter if the boy saw him go into the sewers anyway, he would hardly follow him down below.

Except, even after Qui-Gon recovered the manhole, Qui-Gon heard a distant slash behind him and soft, waterlogged footsteps as the boy got his bearings. He paused, listening to hear what direction the boy would take.

For a moment there was silence as the boy hesitated before the splashing started heading right towards him. The boy had chosen correctly after all.

Qui-Gon cursed his luck. He could keep going of course, the sewers were even more winding than the streets above and he had no doubt he could lose the boy in the darkness.

Instead, Qui-Gon turned back, his cape trailing in the pugnant drain water. It was clear that the boy had next to no survival instincts, first walking the streets of Coruscant in the dead of night and now following a vampire directly after seeing it kill. Qui-Gon considered it his responsibility to help change that.

He found the boy stumbling down the tunnel, splashing through the water blindly as he used the grimy walls to steady himself. Qui-Gon studied the teenager in silence as he got closer, it was no wonder that the boy had gained nefarious attention. Pretty was an understatement and Qui-Gon almost felt sorry for him. On the streets, beauty was no blessing.

“Omph!” The boy grunted as he ran into Qui-Gon, first confusion, and then horror widening his eyes. He stumbled back before slipping on the slick surface of the storm drain.

Qui-Gon grimaced in disgust, using his full height to loom over the boy, “I don’t take kindly to being followed.”

The boy stared up towards him, searching Qui-Gon in the darkness that surrounded them. 

“I’m sorry,” The boy gulped, pushing himself up the wall and out of the filthy water, “I— I wanted to thank you for saving me.”

“I didn’t save you,” Qui-Gon growled, “I spared you. And you have thanked me by presenting yourself as a second course.”

The boy started to slip and gasped as Qui-Gon lifted him by the collar.

“If I let you drink some of my blood can I stay with you?” The boy's words tumbled over each other, leaving Qui-Gon in disbelief. 

“You wouldn’t be letting me,” Qui-Gon snarled, “and if I drank from you, you wouldn’t be breathing afterward.” 

Appalled, Qui-Gon let go, letting the boy slip back into the drain water.

“Please,” the boy scrambled after him, “I could maybe help you some other way.”

Despite being blind in the darkness the boy managed to grab hold of his cape.

Qui-Gon snapped it out of his grasp, “Don’t be a fool, return to the surface where you belong, and count yourself lucky that you’re still alive.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” The boy spoke to the darkness, desperation shining in his eyes, “Please.”

“Anywhere is better than here, unless you like the stench of the sewers?”

The boy grimaced, pulling back slightly, “No, but you can’t either. Unless, unless you can’t smell?” The last was said oddly curiously and under the boy’s breath.

“I’m hardly here out of choice. Now leave.” He growled, trying fruitlessly to frighten the boy away.

The boy flinched, but made no attempt to run, frustratingly, looking even less frightened by the moment. “Maybe I can get us a hotel room? You took the money from...from the bodies didn’t you?”

Qui-Gon huffed a disbelieving laugh, he had managed to attract the most fearless beggar in Coruscant, “Disappointed that I managed to do so before you could?”

The boy bit his lip and ignored the question, “If there’s not enough, then maybe we can find a bridge or something?”

“First of all, there is no we,” Qui-Gon snarled “Second, I can’t go to the surface.”

Confusion had fully replaced fear on the boy’s face much to Qui-Gon’s annoyance. “But why, you were just there—”

“It’s night!” Qui-Gon yelled in exasperation as he spun and began to walk away. No doubt following the sound, the boy trailed behind.

“Oh, um, so is it the light? You need a place where you aren’t exposed to the sun?”

Qui-Gon stopped, and, unable to see, the boy thumped into his back.

“Have you never heard of a vampire before?” Qui-Gon asked crossly, pulling away from the wet human.

“Of course I have,” the boy protested, “but, um, I didn’t want to assume.”

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes and moved forward, ignoring the boy’s stumbling splashes as he followed. 

“I guess a bridge wouldn’t work,” The boy conceded from behind him, “But maybe we could find an abandoned factory or warehouse?”

Qui-Gon snorted, “The whole point of suffering this muck is to be safe from interlopers.”

“Oh,” The boy slipped again, and out of annoyance Qui-Gon turned and steadied him. “Um, so why is the hotel out?”

“I don’t have any identification,” He said, waiting for the boy to get his footing before pulling away.

“I can help with that!” The boy said excitedly jumping on the possibility. 

Qui-Gon scoffed, “You can’t be what, sixteen? Seventeen?”

“I’m eighteen!” The boy said defensively, before his voice went soft, explaining, “I aged out of the foster system a month ago, but I have all my identification flimsi.”

Qui-Gon paused, considering the suggestion as the boy grabbed hold of the back of his cape to steady himself. It would be a relief to escape the sewers.

“How do I know I can trust you?” Qui-Gon asked, entertaining the idea.

“Oh, um, well it's pretty clear you could kill me if I tried anything.”

“During the day, I sleep, you could kill me first.”

The boy’s face twisted with incredulity, “I wouldn’t do that. The whole reason I followed you was because I want your help.”

“You look for help in strange places.”

A miserable smile twisted on the boy’s lips, “There weren’t many places left to look.”

Qui-Gon scowled, irritation coursing through him. Without a word, he stomped away.

“Wait!” The boy trailed behind him, managing to keep a hold of Qui-Gon’s cape.

After a few minutes of Qui-Gon not jerking away, the boy seemed to realize it was intentional, “Um, so where are we going?”

“To my lair, where I will drain you of all life.”

Qui-Gon was decidedly not impressed that despite the silence behind him, the boy still didn’t let go.

“Do you really not have any sort of self-preservation instinct?” Qui-Gon asked, turning his head to speak behind him.

“If you were going to kill me you had a dozen chances to do so already,” The boy shrugged and answered glibly. 

“You seem to think I couldn’t be saving you as a snack for later.”

“How often do you have to...eat?” The curiosity was decidedly not the terror that Qui-Gon had intended to invoke.

“With tonight’s feast, I won’t need to drink for another week. I suppose that gives you until then to live.”

“Oh,” Well there was at least a little hesitation in the boy’s voice now.

They kept moving until Qui-Gon found the shaft he was looking for. He didn’t ask before grabbing the boy and lifting him up to grab onto the ladder. The startled yelp was gratifying, but Qui-Gon just grunted for him to climb. The boy fumbled for a second before scampering up the ladder.

Qui-Gon took his time climbing himself and an audible thunk of a head against metal told him the boy had reached the top. He decidedly did not feel guilty of the half muttered ows and whimpers as he climbed up and around the boy to lift the metal cover.

“Up you go,” Qui-Gon once again didn’t wait for a reply, instead, lifting the boy up and out so that he too could climb to the surface.

While the boy gained his footing, Qui-Gon inspected him. There was no blood, he could tell that much from the smell, but if there were any bruises, they were covered by the boy’s dirty hair. Satisfied that he hadn’t caused any permanent harm, Qui-Gon grabbed the boy’s arm and began walking.

“Um, so your lair isn’t in the sewers then?” The boy asked, half running to keep up with Qui-Gon’s pace.

Qui-Gon snorted, “My lair,” he said sarcastically, “was no more than a mostly dry ledge in the deepest darkest part of the sewers I could find.”

He stopped when they reached the other side of the street from the bright neon signs flashing in the night to blind passersby, “You are going to go book us a hotel room for as many nights as you can get.”

He pulled out the wallet full of the credit chips he had taken from the men who thought it was fun to hunt children, “Here, take it.”

The boy caught it, only to flip it open to see what was inside.

“There’s enough there! Now go,” Qui-Gon growled.

The boy looked up biting his lip, “Um, you do know that’s a love hotel right?”

Qui-Gon wished he could glare even harder without making himself look like an idiot, “I’m well aware, however, I doubt any more reputable hotel will allow you to check-in, looking like that,” Qui-Gon waved his hand in the boy’s general direction.

“Oh,” The boy looked down at himself before glancing up embarrassedly, “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll be right back.”

The boy dashed across the street and disappeared into the love hotel. Qui-Gon resolved to wait for a quarter of an hour, well aware that he had most likely given away all of what he had managed to earn to the slip of a boy. He hadn’t even waited for ten before he started to walk away, only to freeze when the door jangled open and the boy came dashing out.

“Sorry, the droid was slow— Were you going to leave?” The boy sounded hurt, which led Qui-Gon to very much question the boy’s mental facilities even more than he already had.

“You could have easily taken the money and run,” Qui-Gon grumbled, folding his arms and trying to look imposing.

The boy only looked at him critically, “You must think I’m pretty stupid if you think I’d steal from a vampire.”

That was a fair point, but instead of conceding Qui-Gon grabbed the keycards from the outstretched hand and strode into the hotel.

It was decorated grotesquely, facsimile hearts that looked nothing like the real thing dotted the red and pink striped walls, and the sparse, ragged furniture had probably once been red velvet, but was now stained a brownish maroon.

Qui-Gon made a face of distaste and, as the door jangled shut behind him, the boy smiled sympathetically, “Yeah, it’s pretty bad, but the rooms had descriptions and I tried to pick one that wouldn’t be too appalling.”

Qui-Gon didn’t have much hope as they moved down the hotel’s hall and up the creaking elevator.

“How long do we have the room for?” Qui-Gon asked, not looking at the boy who straightened up out of the corner of his eye.

“It charges by the hour here, but I selected the max option of a week.” The boy explained, “Here, there was some leftover.”

Qui-Gon didn’t take the wallet back, “Why are you giving it back to me?”

“Um, it’s yours?”

Unable to stand it anymore, Qui-Gon turned to glare at the boy as the elevator doors pinged open, “You should have lied and said there was none left.”

The boy still held out the wallet in the air as he looked at Qui-Gon in confusion. “Do you want me to steal from you?”

With a groan of frustration, Qui-Gon grabbed it and stormed down the hall.

“Um— it’s actually this one.” The boy stopped at one of the first doors that Qui-Gon had bypassed.

Without a word, Qui-Gon turned on his heel and swept back to where the boy waited for him to unlock the door. He stared at the boy while he did so, daring him to comment, and gratifyingly the teenager looked away.

Qui-Gon opened the door with low expectations, but the room managed to still surpass them. He had, of course, expected only one bed considering the target clientele of the hotel, but there was no explaining the choice of it being round.

The boy peered around him, squinting to see in the dimly lit room, “Oh, um, well it doesn’t have any windows, so I guess that’s good?”

Qui-Gon snorted despite it being quite reassuring. It made it tempting to actually spend the whole week that the boy had bought. He moved to the side, allowing the boy to enter before locking and bolting the door. From the look of alarm the boy sent him, he might have the slightest amount of common sense.

But no matter how Qui-Gon may have been trying to scare the boy, he didn’t actually enjoy being looked at in fear and he left the boy by the refresher. What he hadn’t seen from the door managed to only degrade his opinion further. It was no wonder that the room smelled slightly musky with a tub in one corner, with the stained pink carpeting running right to its edge.

Behind him, the boy opened the door to the refresher with a soft groan. It was easy to tell he was equally unimpressed with his own findings.

Well, anything was better than the sewers, even if it did mean he’d have to start saving for new IDs from scratch. Qui-Gon was about to sit down on the bed when suddenly the boy yelped out a panicked, “NO!”

Qui-Gon froze, before sliding his stare towards the boy, silently demanding answers.

The boy grimaced, “Um, don’t you want to maybe, take off your clothes first?”

Suddenly disconcerted, Qui-Gon folded his cape around him, “Exactly what do you think we are doing here?”

The boy stared at him warily, glancing at the bed and back again.

Qui-Gon bared his fangs, “I’m a monster, not a pedophile.”

Relief relaxed the boy’s shoulders before indignation took over, “I’m not a child!”

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes, “You may as well be. I’d sooner drain you dry than do that.”

The boy looked far too reassured and Qui-Gon once again began to sit on the bed.

“Maybe-get-changed-first?” The words tumbled out of the boy almost on top of each other.

Qui-Gon stared, “Why?”

The boy seemed to fight with himself before finally blurting, “You stink.”

“Living in the sewers tends to do that to a person,” Qui-Gon said with narrowed eyes.

The boy winced, but didn’t give up, “I can wash your clothes for you—that way it won’t be as… noticeable.”

“Hmm,” It would be a relief to be released from the pungent odor. “Fine.”

The bathtub turned out to be useful after all, as Qui-Gon began divesting himself of his outer garments.

“Um, well, I’ll just go clean up then.” The boy darted into the refresher, leaving Qui-Gon to his own devices. By the time he had undressed, a sizable pile of clothing filled the tub. Washing it would be a pungent and arduous job, but it was a relief to be free from the foul-smelling garments. He turned on the water and poured the entire bowl of scented bath salts over the pile, hoping to block the smell and let them soak at the same time. That done, he grabbed a towel draped decoratively over the edge and began wiping himself down the best he could with just water and a bit of overly floral soap he found. The resulting smell of the room left something to be desired, reeking of dead flowers, but it was still a huge improvement to his prior quarters.

He finally climbed on the bed, it’s shape making it so that he had to lay in the dead center if he didn’t want his feet hanging off the end. Despite the seediness of the hotel, the sheets were freshly laundered, and it was easy to melt into the overly plush bed after the past year of hardship.

The refresher door eventually cracked open a little over an hour from dawn. The boy looked much healthier now, red-cheeked, and clean. He had managed to find a robe in the bathroom to replace his wet and sewage infested clothing.

“Do you really sleep like that?” 

“Like what?” Qui-Gon said defensively, he was comfortable, stretched out on his back, arms crossed over his chest.

The boy looked at him doubtfully for a moment before turning away to search through the room’s storage closet.

“What are you looking for?”

“I’m trying to find extra bedding.” The boy’s voice was muffled as he pulled out a pile of linens, apparently successful. No doubt the normal clients of the hotel often requested such items.

Qui-Gon silently watched as the boy took his findings and began to lay them out on the floor.

“Do you even know what’s been down there?” Qui-Gon finally asked, both annoyed and gratified that the boy was learning to keep his distance.

“Do you know what’s been up there?” The boy shot back, and laid down, only to see what Qui-Gon had noticed far earlier.

It was somehow satisfying to see the shock followed by a searching gaze as the boy looked for Qui-Gon’s reflection on the mirror above them. He wouldn’t find it. The last time Qui-Gon had seen himself in a mirror had been a much different time. Still, the boy’s eyes found him, likely from the rise and depression of the sheets. They watched each other for a few moments, the boy unwilling to comment, and Qui-Gon feeling the weakness of dawn creep upon him.

Eventually, the boy’s eyes slid shut, and Qui-Gon too let sleep overtake him.


	2. Chapter 2

Obi-Wan woke with a start, adrenaline pumping through his veins as his muscles tensed, ready to flee even as he felt the unbalance of exhaustion pulling at him. It was dark—only the slightest illumination coming from the unseen lights embedded in the floor. The supposedly romantic lighting was barely enough to see by, but Obi-Wan hadn’t wanted to turn on any of the primary lights, not sure how the vampire would respond. 

Trying to steady his breathing, Obi-Wan’s heart began to slow as he realized he was safe. Well, close enough for the time being. If the vampire had told the truth, he had about a week before he’d need to rethink his association with the being, and, considering the snack comment, probably only a few days.

Obi-Wan sat up as quietly as he could, his back aching from sleeping on the floor. The carpet flooring was matted down and felt almost tacky where Obi-Wan had accidentally brushed it. It was hard not to look longingly at the bed where the vampire slept, strangely appearing more human now that he was asleep, turned on his side, and hugging a pillow.

He still wasn’t sure it had been wise to follow the vampire. Actually, he was certain that it hadn’t been. But, despite how terrifying the vampire was, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but feel like he was safe with him. It hadn’t been a feeling he’d been willing to give up, even as he put himself into a more and more dangerous situation by pursuing the vampire even into the rank stink of the sewers.

He was just grateful they were out of them now. Obi-Wan was reasonably certain it had just been a storm drain, but an unutterable smell had come with them, and, despite cleaning up, Obi-Wan shuddered at the memory of it.

The lack of windows in the oddly shaped room made it difficult to tell what time it was, but Obi-Wan was hungry and knew he needed to find at least something to eat. He’d already been tired the day before, especially with everything that had happened, and the hunger and fatigue would only get worse going forward. 

As quietly as he could, he went to the fresher to check his clothes. He had tried to wash them the night before using the refresher and some soap from the sink. They were still moist to the touch, but definitely wearable. He pulled them on, uncomfortable, but happier now that he was fully clothed. 

He slipped back out and peered around the corner of the room to the circular alcove of the bed. The vampire was still asleep, but during the morning had twisted out of his strange sleeping position, making the sheet around him slip down. Obi-Wan sucked in a deep breath at the sight of the creature’s scarred back, the deep lesions visible even in the poor lighting. He wasn’t sure what could have caused such damage to the vampire, who had seemed preternaturally powerful the night before, but he hoped the vampire had won.

Obi-Wan dithered another moment before his hunger pushed him to approach. He would have rather avoided the bed, not wanting to risk waking up the vampire, but the key cards had been left on the small comm unit table right next to the vampire’s head. If he wanted to come back he would need one of them. 

The vampire didn’t so much as twitch as Obi-Wan shuffled closer. Obi-Wan wasn’t even sure if he breathed for that matter, and with a keycard in hand, he quickly left.

Obi-Wan shivered as a slight breeze cut through his damp clothes. Hoping to warm up, he quickly slipped past a woman who glanced between him and the hotel before she smirked knowingly. Obi-Wan blanched and skittered away in the other direction. He was glad that he hadn’t hit that point yet and that the vampire seemed to have no interest in it. He was safe, for now, but if he wanted to keep it that way he had to find a way of making money and getting off the streets permanently.

Obi-Wan’s stomach curdled, and he sighed in resignation. Before he could worry about that, he needed to find food, or at least a way of earning some. He looked around the still mostly empty street for his options. He’d really never been in this part of the city before. In his previous life, there had been no reason to come to the rather infamous and rundown distinct, but like everywhere else, where there were people, there were restaurants. 

This was good for two reasons, Obi-Wan had learned that he could go to the back kitchens and ask if they needed any extra help and if he was especially lucky they might pay him for doing dishes or taking out the trash. More often than not though, the workers wanted nothing to do with him, treating him like he was one of the sewer rats that came out for the garbage at night and early mornings. Which meant that sometimes, Obi-Wan had to resort to exactly that. Sometimes when you are hungry enough, food thrown away can become your only meal that day.

As Obi-Wan looked for potential prospects, he saw some street pedalers down the road and quickly changed directions. To anyone experienced enough, it’d still be obvious Obi-Wan had been living on the streets, which meant either a friend or competition. Unfortunately, during his time on the streets, Obi-Wan found that he seemed to rub the others the wrong way and always seemed to fall into the latter.

Avoiding street peddlers meant taking less populous routes and in turn, finding less well off restaurants, but his luck turned for the better when he knocked on the kitchen door of a grimy old diner who only had a few customers. At first, it looked like no one had heard and Obi-Wan started to leave when the door suddenly slammed open and a male Besalisk thrust his head out. 

“Hey have you got my— oh, what do you want kid?”

Obi-Wan tried his best not to be intimidated by the hulking figure, “Um, I’m looking for work? I mean, I can take out the garbage or wash dishes, or whatever you want really.”

The Basalisk blinked, turning his head in thought, “Huh, well I might have something. You hungry kid?”

“Yes?” Obi-Wan answered hesitantly even as the Basalisk put a heavy hand on his shoulder and guided him inside. The kitchen smelled delicious, even if it looked like it had seen better days, “I could probably clean if you show me where your cleaning supplies are.”

The Basalisk laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ll put you to work soon enough. Sit down.” Obi-Wan couldn’t have done differently if he had tried, the Basalisk easily pushing him onto a chair at a messy comm station. 

“What’s your name kid?” The Basalisk asked as he moved to stir a boiling pot.

“Obi-Wan,” He answered quickly, trying to keep still, but unable to stop bouncing his knee all the same.

“Obi-Wan, good name. You can call me Dex.” The Basalisk poured out a heaping scoop of the soup into a bowl and shoved it into Obi-Wan’s hands. “Now, you eat that and then I’ll see about getting you to work.”

“Um.. are you sure?” Obi-Wan asked hesitantly, in his experience receiving something before earning it always meant the price was higher, but the soup smelt like reishi mushrooms and tip-yip.

Dex chuckled, his jowls quivering, “No sense in trying to wring water from a stone. Eat up, I gotta go and check on the customers.”

And like that Obi-Wan was left alone to sip his soup. It tasted as good as it smelled and he struggled to pace himself. The bowl emptied far too soon, and despite feeling full, Obi-Wan wished he could have more. With a sigh, he stood and took the bowl to an overflowing sink. He looked around for a dish cleaning machine but when he tried to open it the latch wouldn’t work.

Dex burst into the kitchen with the swinging of the door, “Heh, don’t even bother with that. Been broken for the past month and I haven’t managed to get anyone to fix it yet. ‘Fraid you’ll have to wash by hand.”

Obi-Wan tried to stay out of Dex’s way as the Basalisk showed him where the cleaning supplies were and the basics of the kitchen. “Think you got it, kid?”

“Yes, I think so?” 

“Good, I’ve got an order, but you holler if you need anything.” Dex moved to the cooking station and quite literally fired up the grill with a flash of heat that even Obi-Wan could feel.

“Heh, old thing’s a bit temperamental,” Dex said with a wink once he got it under control.

Obi-Wan nervously nodded and got to work. The dishes were easy enough, but several of the large pots had obviously not been washed in days. Obi-Wan kept at it though, and with the soup still warm in his belly he kept at it until even the worst of them were scrubbed shiny and clean. Dex sometimes left him alone in the kitchen to take care of a customer or other needs, and it was during one of these times that Obi-Wan finished. There was no doubt that he had worked long enough to pay for the soup, but Dex felt good-hearted and the kitchen was still a mess.

Obi-Wan was scrubbing the floor where he wouldn’t be in the way when Dex came back.

“Ha, you’re a good kid.” Dex slapped him on the back harder than he probably realized. Obi-Wan hid a wince with a smile and just nodded, continuing to work on the oily tiles.

Dex insisted on feeding him again and handing him a few unexpected credit chips before he pushed Obi-Wan out the door later that day, “Haven’t had such a hard worker in weeks, it’s not much, but maybe it’ll help you out.”

Obi-Wan genuinely smiled back for the first time in weeks, “Thank you!” The chips wouldn’t be enough for a place to stay, but he wouldn’t have to worry about food for the next few days. 

On the way back to the hotel, he stopped at a convenience market to quickly buy a half a dozen food packets. They wouldn’t taste like much, but they were calorie-dense and filling, and that was all Obi-Wan could really ask for.

The love hotel looked even worse in the cold light of day, and it was no small wonder that the hotel was as cheap as it was. When Obi-Wan cracked open the door of their room, the vampire was still asleep, unmoving and dead quiet.

Obi-Wan kind of wished he had checked what time sunset was. In the stories he had heard, vampires were only awake at night, but it was difficult to know if that meant complete darkness or just twilight. Could the vampire even sense when to wake or did he just need to rest a certain amount of time? Obi-Wan knew from experience his curiosity would be unwelcome, but it was difficult not to wonder about the vampire’s existence. 

Obi-Wan put his bag of food against the wall and was tempted to let himself sink to the floor, mentally and physically exhausted. Despite it being early, he was still tired from having only gotten a few hours of fitful and uncomfortable sleep. Instead, he rolled up his sleeves and turned his attention to the massive, triangular bathtub in the opposite corner of the room from the bed.

The water had turned brown with an edge of pink salt lining the rim, the entire thing stinking of rotting flowers and decay. The best thing he could do would be to drain it at this point, but it would probably make more noise than Obi-Wan was comfortable with. Obi-Wan hesitantly glanced at the sleeping vampire as he considered how the man would react to having soaking wet clothes when he woke up, or the possibility of the vampire simply going without the garments entirely.

Decision made, Obi-Wan clicked over the drain on the tub, hoping it wouldn’t be too loud. So, of course, the gurgle and rattle of the pipes started immediately and only seemed to get louder. Obi-Wan stared panickedly at the vampire, waiting for him to lash out in consequence of being awoken in the middle of the day.

The vampire lay completely still as the bath continued to drain, every second lasting longer than the one before, until finally, the tub gave a last hiss and thick burp. Either the vampire was even more tired than Obi-Wan, or he slept like the dead. Obi-Wan scrunched his face up at the thought. He didn’t think it was likely vampires were actually “undead” like some stories said, but it was uncomfortable to think about all the same.

The pile of soaked clothing remaining in the tub was still disgusting, but Obi-Wan took them out piece by piece to wash in the bathroom. Obi-Wan studied the large, heavy pile. The vampire’s clothing was oddly old fashioned, or maybe off-world. In addition to the dramatic cloak, the stack also contained a pair of loose trousers, a once-white collared shirt, and even a vest of sorts. It seemed like a lot of layers and heft for someone who frequented the sewers. 

Obi-Wan had used up the few small bars of soap that the hotel had provided by the time he was starting on the vampire’s cape, leaving no way to actually get it clean other than to rinse it the best he could. If the vampire would let him, maybe Obi-Wan could take it to an actual laundromat. He sighed, all of their clothing still had the slightest hint of muck and rot. Obi-Wan didn’t know if even a machine could get out the lingering smell, but it would have been nice to have the money to try. 

Obi-Wan hung the mostly clean clothes, hoping that the refresher’s fan would be enough to keep the room from turning humid and sticky as they dried. Who knew what unpleasant things a bit of moisture would stir up from the tacky walls and crusty carpet. 

Finally done, Obi-Wan moved into the main room and stared enviously at the bed and the vampire who was sprawled across it. It was far more tempting than it should have been to even just sit somewhere soft, but despite Obi-Wan’s recent descent into madness, he wasn’t completely stupid. So with a heavy sigh, Obi-Wan moved back to the mess of linen he had left behind that morning. Somehow the floor felt even harder than the night before, and the disconcertion he had managed to push aside rose to the forethought of his mind when he looked up to see the mirror on the ceiling.

Obi-Wan allowed a shudder to run down his spine, safe in the knowledge that the vampire was still asleep. He hadn’t believed the stories when he heard that vampire’s had no reflection. Everything else had seemed possible considering the wide and unknown regions of the galaxy still to be explored by known civilizations. But a being's reflection—it should have been scientifically impossible, and the explanation that vampires lacked souls seemed likely equal nonsense. 

Except, apparently it wasn’t. Obi-Wan didn’t know what that meant. How much of the spacer stories were true? It was obvious that the vampire wasn’t a crazed monster, bloody-thirsty, yes, but he hadn’t so much as bruised Obi-Wan throughout their dealings, even when the vampire had picked him up in the sewer. 

And, for whatever crazy reason, Obi-Wan felt safe with him. Yet so many other things had been true— the aversion or even threat of sunshine, they slept like the dead, and, of course, the lack of reflection.

Despite some of the stories being true, Obi-Wan still didn’t see any merit in the explanation of why it was so. Being undead and having no soul didn’t make any sense, beings were either alive or they weren’t, and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what a soul was supposed to be in the first place. Determined to ignore the unsettling reflection, Obi-Wan turned on his side only to see two clear blue eyes staring back.

Obi-Wan didn’t mean to yelp.

The vampire grunted with the slightest hint of astonishment as he sat up, “You’re still here.”

Obi-Wan winced, balling his hand protectively into the sheets around him. He wasn’t sure if that meant that the vampire had wanted him gone in the morning or not, but a safe place to spend the night was worth dealing with his possible ire. He decided to purposefully misunderstand the statement, “I left for a few hours earlier. Uh, how long have you been awake?”

The vampire grumbled something that might have been “not long,” as he climbed off the bed pulling the covers along with him like a giant cloak. He checked the bathtub.

“Where are my clothes?”

“I washed them,” Obi-Wan said hurriedly as he got to his knees. He was close enough to check the comm unit’s time display, it was a little past the 18th hour. That had to be pretty close to sunset. 

The vampire’s penetrating stare slid over to him.

“Oh, um, they are in the refresher—I don’t know if they are dry yet though.”

Obi-Wan felt a little insulted at the vampire’s belabored sigh. He could have left the clothes to sit in the water. Either way, he wouldn’t have any clothes. Despite Obi-Wan’s words, the vampire went into the refresher to check for himself, and, after a few minutes of silence, Obi-Wan heard the shower turn on.

Oh, well, at least the vampire was attempting to get clean. Obi-Wan glanced at the bed, it didn’t look dirty, but Obi-Wan didn’t have high hopes for it. Although it really didn’t matter, now that the vampire was awake, Obi-Wan was badly tempted to take the bed for himself. 

Obi-Wan chewed his lip as he listened to the sound of the shower and considered it, before deciding that it didn’t really matter if he was on the floor or the bed when the vampire came back and he might as well be comfortable. He scrambled up taking only the top sheet with him and jumped on the bed with utter and simple delight. It bounced back and sank under Obi-Wan’s weight. Obi-Wan didn’t even bother grabbing one of the pillows before he flopped down. His whole body relaxing into the soft cushion beneath him. He didn’t think even his bed in the dormitory had been this comfortable, although that might have been absence speaking.

He hadn’t meant to start drifting off before the vampire left, but he was jolted out of a drifting dream when the refresher door creaked open.

It kickstarted his heart, sending it racing as he curled up in trepidation.

The vampire stopped in the doorway, staring at Obi-Wan with a hint of frustration.

“I-can-move.” Obi-Wan stumbled over his words as he tried to get off the bed as quickly as possible.

“Stop.” The vampire held out a hand, instantly freezing Obi-Wan in his tracks. “I’m leaving.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan let himself sink onto the bed, half on and half off it. “Um, where are you going?”

The vampire raised an eyebrow, “Away from annoyingly inquisitive imps.”

Obi-Wan flushed, he had been trying to not ask the vampire a dozen questions, but he just wanted to know what was going on.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

The vampire rolled his eyes as he stepped towards Obi-Wan, not understanding why Obi-Wan scrambled back. The vampire just ignored him however and grabbed the second key card from the comm table.

“No.” The vampire said flatly before turning sharply and walking to the door. The effect from the night before was slightly lost however as the vampire had only put on his unfashionable shirt and pants leaving behind the cape that had made him seem so much like a shadow in the dark.

“And don’t go outside. The streets aren’t safe.”

The door slammed behind the vampire, leaving Obi-Wan bemused on the bed. Well, the vampire seemed to expect Obi-Wan to still be there when he got back, which was a good thing since Obi-Wan didn’t think he could manage to move. He fell back on the bed with an audible thump, the sheets still had a lingering smell of the sewers, but it was laced with the strangely comforting smell of something soft and warm, like fresh soil. If he had an ounce of energy, left it would have been smart to get up and get a change of sheets from the front desk while the vampire was gone. 

Instead, Obi-Wan curled into the pile of pillows that had been left untouched by the vampire, and drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

That night, Qui-Gon had to once again start over from the beginning. 

Since stumbling off the freighter he had smuggled himself on, he had hunted only when pressed by hunger and only scavenged what his victims had carried. It had begun adding up to a sum that Qui-Gon hoped would allow him to eventually buy Identification, but his savings had been decimated by the week’s stay in the hotel. 

So Qui-Gon now found himself back at square one, and now that he had escaped the sewers, he hoped to stay out of them.

The night was early when a man caught his eye. Qui-Gon had fed the night before, he didn’t need to feed again so soon, but felt his mouth water all the same.

His prey might have looked like any other man on the street, but Qui-Gon recognized the movements of another hunter. It was easy to follow the man without being seen, but Qui-Gon still took care to stay in the shadows, avoiding street lamps in case someone might notice the white flash of his shirt. It had been easier to do this when he had the comforting weight and shadow of his cloak, but the boy had been correct in his assessment and the heavy fabric had been damper than what it was worth.

The man picked up his pace, and Qui-Gon spotted the thug’s potential victim ahead. She was talking on a commlink as she walked and had a large purse tucked under her arm. The woman noticed the intimidating figure approaching and veered to the side, no doubt hoping to keep clear of him, but the man knew what he was doing and had a partner lying in wait. The woman’s voice was muffled as she was dragged into a side alley. 

The men didn’t notice him close in behind them as one of them held a knife to the woman’s throat and the other dug through her purse. The woman screamed and Qui-Gon quickly knocked out the man with the knife before turning to the other who was likewise easily dealt with. The woman gaped at him like a fish out of water as he picked up her purse and glanced inside. 

Its only contents were mundane items and bits of flimsi. Qui-Gon tossed it at her with a grunt. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

The woman squeaked and scrambled away, her purse clutched to her chest, leaving Qui-Gon with the two thugs. Qui-Gon stared after her, before letting out an unimpressed breath— clearly, he hadn’t lost his ability to terrify humans after all.

Wasting no more time, Qui-Gon searched the unconscious bodies and managed to compile a decent stack of credits before leaving the alley behind. With the men alive to tell the tale, hunting in the next few days would become more difficult. He knew they would spread the word of a silent attacker, but despite the beginnings of hunger, Qui-Gon would wait as long as he could to feed again. There was still time to find a much more deserving victim.

Qui-Gon spent the rest of the night prowling the streets. It always took time to scope out his victims, lying in wait until he could be sure that they were indeed what he suspected, but by the end of the night, he had accomplished what he set out to do. He had scavenged more than enough credits to make up what he was wasting on the hotel and by disregarding the potential risk of gaining unwanted attention, he would have enough to buy a black market ID. 

The night was late when Qui-Gon started back towards the hotel. He was almost there when the scent of baking spice rolls made him pause. He had no need to eat himself, but the boy— Qui-Gon winced thinking about the foolhardy teenager. Qui-Gon had no wish to ingratiate himself into the boy’s life, but Qui-Gon also knew all too well how it felt to be hungry. He wavered, the sweet scent filling his nose before he twisted sharply and entered the shop. 

The delay only took a few minutes and Qui-Gon entered the hotel room silently and carefully put down his bounty on the comm table. The boy was curled up in the middle of the bed, taking advantage of Qui-Gon’s absence. The sleeping form hardly looked relaxed though and a soft keen made Qui-Gon move to the bedside.

The boy’s breath was stuttering, his chest barely moving before oxygen deprivation forced him to take rapid shallow breaths. At this rate, he’d feel more exhausted waking up then he did before falling asleep. Qui-Gon hesitated, not sure how to wake the boy when another soft cry escaped the boy’s pressed lips.

“Wake up,” Qui-Gon prodded, folding his arms with the pretense of sternness.

All it did was make the boy curl into himself, his arms pulled up to cover his face protectively. More than a little alarmed, Qui-Gon gave up his veneer and knelt on the bed to reach the boy. His hand hovered over the boy’s shoulder, the vulnerability of sleep making Qui-Gon’s touch somehow worse, but another wet gasp made him close the distance.

“Wake up,” Qui-Gon tried to soften the gravel in his voice as he lightly rubbed the boy's thin arm, hoping it would be enough.

The boy’s eyes cracked open, glazed over with sleep, before shooting open in alarm. Qui-Gon pulled away almost immediately and the boy scrambled back and almost fell off the rounded corner of the bed, only being saved by the proximity of the bed to the wall.

“I’m sorry,” Qui-Gon muttered, pulling back. He should have just let the boy sleep.

The wildness in the boy’s eyes faded into the wariness that Qui-Gon was familiar with. “Oh, um, no, it’s okay. I was just having a bad dream.”

That much had been obvious. Qui-Gon shifted uncomfortably and glanced away, spotting a perfect distraction as he did so.

“Here,” Qui-Gon said gruffly, grabbing the bag of cakes and throwing it on the bed as the boy tried to escape the overly soft surface.

“...What is this?” The boy took the bag and began to cautiously open it.

“Food,” Qui-Gon said simply, feeling that the rest should’ve been obvious.

“Oh—” the boy glanced towards a bag he had brought into the hotel with him before digging out the spice rolls and sighing in satisfaction, “They smell delicious.”

Qui-Gon snorted and left the bedside to clean up in the refresher. By the time he came back, there was no sign of the boy and only the almost empty bag left on the comm table. Qui-Gon scoffed as he realized the boy had left one cake. He was much too soft to be on the streets and Qui-Gon didn’t understand how he had managed to stay alive.

He was in the middle of undressing when the hotel door creaked open and he met the boy’s wide-eyed gaze. Feeling exposed, Qui-Gon finished pulling off his shirt all the same, “Either come inside or leave.”

The boy blushed and moved inside quickly, carrying a bundle of linens. “Um, I got new sheets.”

Qui-Gon gave a heavy sigh before holding out a hand for them. In all truth, it would be nice to change the bed before falling asleep. The room’s air filters could only handle so much before it began to smell like the mildew and sour air they had brought with them.

The boy ignored him however and moved past him to the bed, “I can do it.”

Qui-Gon brows furrowed as he folded his arms, uncomfortable as the boy began stripping the bed. 

“You don’t need to,” Qui-Gon grumbled as he grabbed the bag with the last spice roll and shoved into the boy’s chest, simultaneously pushing him away from the bed.

“I already ate one.” The boy protested even as he fumbled to catch the bag. 

“I bought both of them for you. Eat.” Qui-Gon draped the new sheet over the bed and tried to figure out how to tuck the edges.

The boy was silent for a moment, leaning against the wall and slowly sliding down to sit on the ground. “Um, so did you already eat then?”

Qui-Gon shot a quick glare over his shoulder as he held one end of the sheet stable while stretching to tuck it on the other side.

“I ate yesterday.”

The boy tilted his head in bemusement, “Oh, um, so you don’t eat— anything else?” The last part was said slightly strained.

Qui-Gon looked away hiding a spark of amusement at the boy’s tenacious persistence even as he answered flatly, “No.”

It seemed that Qui-Gon’s answer gave the boy pause as the nearly silent “Oh” was followed by silence as Qui-Gon continued to struggle with the sheet.

“What’s your name?”

Qui-Gon’s head snapped up and he glared at the boy. The effort was lost though as the boy only looked towards him curiously as he munched on the roll.

“I don’t see why it matters.”

“My name is Obi-Wan.” The boy continued on determinedly, waiting for Qui-Gon to respond.

“I don’t need to know the name of my food,” Qui-Gon grumbled as he finally straightened the misbehaving top sheet and threw on the blanket.

“Do you always feed your food before you eat it?”

Qui-Gon scowled intimidatingly at the boy who looked back nonplussed. “There’s always a special exception.”

Irritatingly, a hint of a smile slid onto the boy’s face. “I appreciate it anyways.”

Qui-Gon dropped onto the clean bed with an audible groan. 

Obi-Wan went quiet after that, finishing his roll before getting up to leave.

“My name’s Qui-Gon,” He grumbled.

He couldn’t see Obi-Wan anymore, even in the mirror, but he heard him pause midway through walking out the door.

“It’s nice to meet you, Qui-Gon.”

The door creaked shut even as Qui-Gon felt the discomfort of a window in his heart cracking open.

* * *

  
Pleased to at least know Qui-Gon’s name, Obi-Wan left the hotel quickly, making his way towards Dex’s diner before any of the local shops opened. 

He was maybe pushing his luck with the Besalisk, but it would be at least a good place to start. Even if Dex didn’t have any work for him he might be able to point Obi-Wan in the right direction.

“Oh, Obi-Wan!” Dex answered the knock to the kitchen door with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, kid. You did a great job yesterday, but I don’t know if I have anything for you today.”

Obi-Wan tried to hide his disappointment behind a smile, but he wasn’t ready to give up quite yet. “Actually, I was wondering if you would mind if I tried to fix your dish cleaning machine?”

“Huh,” Dex rubbed his jowls, “You good with machines, kid?”

Obi-Wan nodded, “Enough to figure out what’s wrong with it, I won’t be able to provide any parts though.”

Dex huffed a laugh, “Well, I can feed you lunch at least if you can tell me what’s wrong with the kriffing thing. Come on in.”

Obi-Wan had hoped for a bit more work, but the diner was a bit run down, and it wasn’t hard to imagine Dex didn’t have much cash to be throwing around. He got to work immediately and, hours later, found a faulty wire that had rusted through after dismantling the majority of the bulky machine. He managed to reroute it and push the wires back into place so that humidity couldn’t get to them. He meticulously put everything back together and fixed the latch as well.

“I think that I fixed it,” Obi-Wan announced, “But you may want to run a batch of dishes to make sure.”

“Really now?” Dex said, impressed, “I’ll run it while you eat. Made you a Bantha burger.” Dex pushed him to sit with a steaming burger and fried tubers.

Obi-Wan’s mouth watered before he took his first bite. It was hard to remember the last time he’d had something so good.

Dex took Obi-Wan’s suggestion and filled the machine before setting it to wash. The machine hummed to life which seemed to be a good sign. 

“Ha, I think you might’ve done it!” Dex shouted, “If those are clean when they come out I might have some cold cream for you as well!”

Obi-Wan grinned in return, unable to reply with his mouth full. There wasn’t anything quite like warm food. He finished up quickly, used to having to scarf down his food, and turned into Dex who was still cleaning up between orders.

“Um, is there anything else I can help with? Maybe I can sweep up?”

Dex’s mouth twisted into more of a grimace than a smile, “I’ll already owe you enough if you managed to get that damn thing working. I’m sorry, I can’t pay you much, kid.”

“That’s okay!” Obi-Wan waved his hands placatingly, it couldn’t be easy trying to keep a restaurant going, and Dex was a better being than most Obi-Wan had encountered.

Dex shook his head with a laugh when Obi-Wan went for the broom anyway, “God kid, you’re just trying to butter me up now.”

They worked for a few minutes until the dish cleaner buzzed. Dex exclaimed when he opened it to find three rows of perfectly clean dishes. “You’ve really done me a favor, kid, I might be able to actually focus on making food now.” Dex grabbed Obi-Wan who had been peering over his shoulder to see the results and rubbed the top of his head with his knuckles.

“Oh, hey, ow! I’m glad!” Obi-Wan said, managing to slip away from Dex’s hold.

Dex laughed with a grin and turned away, “One galactic sundae coming right up!”

Obi-Wan tried to turn it down, already full from the larger than average meal Dex had thrust on him, but Dex happily made the dessert regardless.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said wide-eyed as the triple scoop bowl was shoved into his hands.

“Ha, you deserve it!” Dex leaned on the counter keeping watch as Obi-Wan reluctantly took his first bite. It was better than he expected and his second bite was a little more enthusiastic.

The diner was slow and Dex continued to keep Obi-Wan company as he ate, asking him about his favorite dishes. Eventually, the conversation turned, and Obi-Wan grimaced as Dex asked where he was from. 

It wasn’t a conversation he was really comfortable having, the memory of losing everything still sending a cold rush of shame and hurt down his spine, so he just shrugged in response. 

Dex’s frown deepened as he hummed, obviously looking at Obi-Wan’s worn, unchanged clothes, “You’ve at least got a place to stay, right kid?”

“Yeah, I’ve been staying with a friend, sort of.” 

Dex’s frown deepened as he hummed, “You’re not getting involved in any funny business are you?”

Obi-Wan winced, it certainly wasn’t what Dex was thinking, but it wasn’t exactly conventional to cohabitate with a vampire that kept threatening to possibly feed on you.

“No, it’s good. He’s a good person.” Obi-Wan could feel it in his gut.

Dex still looked unconvinced, “Hmm, well you aren’t unskilled. How about I spread the word that you can fix things? Might get you enough pocket money to have more options.”

Obi-Wan immediately brightened up, “That would be amazing actually.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry I can’t hire you myself.” Dex rubbed the back of his neck. “If business picks up, you’d be my first choice— it’s not exactly easy finding good workers.”

Obi-Wan smiled sympathetically, “Maybe if you put up flyers? Or ran some specials. Your food’s really delicious.”

“Ha! You’re a flatterer Obi-Wan, but it’s not a bad idea.”

Obi-Wan finished the cold cream and was ushered out the door afterward, Dex firm that he had already done enough. “Come back tomorrow though you hear!? I'm sure I’ll find something for you, one way or another!”

Obi-Wan took his time getting back to the hotel, full to the brim, and a bit lethargic despite the sun still being out. It felt like his luck might have turned for the better. Or at least he hoped it had. If he could make a bit of money, then once the week was up he could probably rent at least a bed in one of the dorms around the city. From there, he might be able to apply for a real job, something that would be enough for a room of his own.

But Qui-Gon would have nothing.

Not having any ID in Coruscant made life incredibly difficult. Every sentient being was required to have identification as a way to “spur the tide of illegal immigration from other planets.” Not that it made much of a difference, most beings who couldn’t get through the legal hoops just went to the black market for the necessary identification flimsi. Most didn’t pass close inspection, but surely Qui-Gon would only need something basic.

But even the most basic would cost far more money than Obi-Wan had ever held at one time.

He let out a heavy sigh. It was obvious that the vampire had fallen on hard times, even more so than Obi-Wan. Though the creatures were usually depicted as monsters in the media, Obi-Wan didn’t really think the vampire wanted to kill so much as he had to and so far Qui-Gon had only attacked the worst sort of people.

Obi-Wan didn’t think he deserved to have to go back to living in the sewers. There had to be another option.

When Obi-Wan got back to the hotel room, Qui-Gon was still asleep. Without any windows, Obi-Wan wondered how the vampire could tell it was day or night. Maybe he had an innate sense of the sun that allowed him to know when it was safe? Obi-Wan wished he had access to the Holonet, he was sure that someone out there probably knew more than him, and he had a dozen questions that he didn’t dare ask.

Actually, he might be able to answer at least one. Obi-Wan cautiously approached the bed, the vampire was twisted up in the sheets, and likely nude from the looks of things, but no matter how close Obi-Wan looked he couldn’t see him breathe. It was a bit unsettling and, despite Obi-Wan’s better judgment he inched forward, wanting to check if the vampire was breathing. The bed squeaked as Obi-Wan put some of his weight on his knee and froze expecting Qui-Gon’s eyes to flash open, but the vampire remained undisturbed.

Heart racing, Obi-Wan held out his wrist— if the vampire was breathing he should at least be able to feel it on the sensitive part of his skin. For a moment, Obi-Wan couldn’t feel a thing and then the slightest exhale tickled at his skin. So the stories of vampires being “undead” were wrong after all.

Obi-Wan was about to move away when his wrist was suddenly grabbed and, through the movement, Obi-Wan was pulled fully onto the bed while Qui-Gon glared at him.

“Are you taunting me?”

Obi-Wan mentally swore, heart pounding like it was trying to catch up. “No! Sorry, I thought you were asleep!”

“I was.” Qui-Gon glared. Unsettlingly, he still held Obi-Wan’s wrist dangerously close to his fangs. Had Obi-Wan finally pushed too far? Was the vampire going to follow through on his threats?

“Don’t tease me.” Qui-Gon pushed Obi-Wan away from him and curled up with a groan. Obi-Wan flopped unsteadily on the bed next to Qui-Gon before scrambling to his knees. The vampire didn’t move, however, seemingly trying to go back to sleep. 

“Are you always hungry?” The words spilled out of Obi-Wan’s mouth, even as he internally wished he’d just shut up. The nervous tendency to talk his way into trouble only made the situation worse and he cowered under the glare Qui-Gon sent his way.

“Do you want to find out?” Despite the threat, the vampire made no move towards him.

“I thought you said you didn’t need to eat for a week?” Obi-Wan asked apprehensively, wanting assurance despite suspecting he wouldn’t like the answer.

Qui-Gon’s narrowed eyes looked like almost burnished gold instead of the blue Obi-Wan remembered, but Obi-Wan returned the look with anxious stubbornness, facing the intrinsic threat the only way he knew how.

“I don’t have to feed for a week after a kill, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get hungry.”

It was hard not to feel like prey when the vampire looked at him like that. “Do you have to kill? When you feed I mean?” Obi-Wan had tried to ask before, but he needed to know even if he wanted to disappear into the ground the second the words came out of his mouth. He was going to literally talk himself to death like his teachers always said he would.

The vampire bared his fangs, sharp and deadly, and more than ever before Obi-Wan could see the bare hunger in the deep blue eyes, “Would you like to find out?”

Obi-Wan swallowed heavily, shaking his head quickly.

Qui-Gon seemed satisfied with his response and, with a grunt, rolled over.

Obi-Wan didn’t quite dare to move for a moment, feeling like he had been on the brink and staring down at twenty stories before falling back onto solid ground. Finally, he scrambled up, heart thundering in his ears.

“Um… I’ll, I’ll be back.” Obi-Wan stumbled over his words as he reached the door and retreated to relative safety. Note to self, he thought, don’t wake up a vampire before sunset.

Not willing to head back into the room anytime soon, Obi-Wan wandered down the hall. He was being an idiot. The vampire may have saved him, but he was broadcasting loud and clear that Obi-Wan wasn’t safe with him. Not for the long term and probably not even now. Obi-Wan should move on before night fell, but he still only had a few credits left from Dex.

Obi-Wan groaned and leaned against the wall. He might be able to go to Dex, he considered the Besalisk a fast friend, but it was obvious he couldn’t offer Obi-Wan much

Obi-Wan slid down the dirty wall and pulled lightly at his hair while staring down the hall. Maybe Obi-Wan could just sleep in Dex’s kitchen? Even a tile floor was better than the streets, and that had been better than the shelter.

It was all wishful thinking. As much as Dex was willing to help out, Obi-Wan was all too familiar with the limits of people’s charity. Something small like a meal was fine, but the bigger, more important things were harder to give. People weren’t comfortable offering the bare minimum, but often they couldn’t give any more that so Obi-Wan was left with nothing instead.

Obi-Wan rubbed at his eyes, frustrated that he was falling into the trap of self-pity. It only made things worse and honestly, things were starting to look up. Dex had offered to help him find jobs and if that worked out, Obi-Wan could find a cheap bed at a hostel. He just needed to stay with the vampire one more night.

Obi-Wan chewed on his lip. He had run out quickly, but Qui-Gon really hadn’t made any threatening moves other than initially grabbing Obi-Wan. Which was kind of Obi-Wan’s fault since he’d basically been flaunting his veins in front of the vampire’s nose. If Obi-Wan went back ...then it’d probably be fine?

Obi-Wan floundered between the safety of the hotel for another night and the quickly increasing risk he was taking by doing so. Sleeping on the streets also held its own risks. Obi-Wan was well aware that he had been lucky so far that he hadn’t been pushed into prostitution or drug smuggling.

Lost in his churning thoughts, Obi-Wan didn’t hear Qui-Gon walk down the hall, but he jumped when he caught sight of his boots out the corner of his eyes. Obi-Wan pressed himself flat against the wall in alarm, but the vampire looked strangely apologetic. 

They stared at each other in silence before Qui-Gon finally spoke, “I get hungry after a day, but I don’t have to feed.” The vampire looked uncomfortable and shifted on his feet. “I have to feed after a week or I lose control, but I don’t—I only kill people who deserve it, if and when I have to.”

Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon in shock. That sounded like it was almost like an apology.

A frustrated crease began to grow between Qui-Gon’s eyebrows when Obi-Wan didn’t answer.

“You didn’t come back.”

Oh. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how long he had been out here, but it had been a while. “I didn’t want to disturb you?”

Qui-Gon raised a brow, both of them remembering what had started the fiasco in the first place, “What were you trying to do?”

Obi-Wan looked down guiltily. He’d gotten overconfident and had wanted to satisfy his curiosity. Embarrassed, he mumbled his answer.

“You thought I was dead?” Qui-Gon sounded more confused than angry.

“Undead!” Obi-Wan said quickly looking up to meet Qui-Gon’s bemused look, “All the stories about vampires say something different.” Obi-Wan finished sheepishly.

Qui-Gon grunted, “Well that’s one way of putting it.”

“What do you mean?” Obi-Wan asked, his curiosity instantly reignited.

Qui-Gon stared at him a moment before moving away. Obi-Wan knew he shouldn’t follow but he’d never been good at following his own advice.

“Are you, ah, undead, then?”

“Cursed is more accurate,” Qui-Gon grumbled, shooting a look that clearly implicated Obi-Wan as part of that curse.

Obi-Wan frowned mulling that over, “So are all vampires cursed, or just you?”

Qui-Gon pressed the button to request the elevator. “Have you ever heard of what killed the lothcat?”

Obi-Wan grimaced, growing up his caretakers had warned him with the phrase, but it’d never felt quite as poignant. Obi-Wan murmured an apology as the elevator doors swooshed open. Qui-Gon moved inside, but Obi-Wan waited until the last second to join him. He needed to understand, to be able to help somehow.

Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon’s eyes on him as the elevator moved down. “Some vampires enjoy their curse, but we all live in its shadow.”

Obi-Wan looked up sharply but Qui-Gon was focused ahead and led the way out of the elevator. Obi-Wan had to hurry to catch up.

“Do you mean cursed at birth?”

Qui-Gon snorted, “No vampire is born, we are created.” 

Behind them, the droid hotelier called a faint goodbye as they swept out of the hotel like a stormcloud. Obi-Wan mulled over the idea as they walked. Vampires weren’t a recognized species in the Republic, but Obi-Wan had thought after meeting one that they were just too few and far in between to have merited official government notice. If they were created, then the government would never recognize them, any form of cloning or genetic modification to known sentient species was both reviled and incredibly illegal. Obi-Wan wanted badly to ask badly how exactly vampires were “created”, but from Qui-Gon’s tone, it was more than a little sensitive.

Biting his lip, “Oh, um how long have you been a vampire then?”

“Too long,” Qui-Gon abruptly stopped, looming over Obi-Wan with a stern expression. “You should go back to the hotel.”

Obi-Wan winced, “It’s not that late yet.” And despite everything that had happened in the last hour, Obi-Wan still felt the faintest whisper of safety coming from Qui-Gon that confused him as much as it drew him in.

Qui-Gon scoffed and turned away sharply, “I have better things to do than to keep you out of trouble.”

Obi-Wan wanted to know where the vampire was going, what he was doing out all night, but only watched as Qui-Gon swept away, disappearing into the shadows. With a sigh of his own Obi-Wan went back to the hotel. He’d stay for another night after all, after that— he would need to wait and see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hey! They at least know each other's names now! ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to share my absolute love and gratitude to [Grapemartini](https://grapemartini.tumblr.com/) for creating the gorgeous coverart below. <3333

The sweet aroma hit Qui-Gon suddenly and, like a meteorite hitting the ocean, waves of lust and hunger ran through him, until he had to either freeze in his tracks or tear into the man’s neck that he was currently holding against the wall. That Qui-Gon almost did so showed that he was waiting too long to feed, particularly when he was in such close proximity to sustenance at the beginning and end of every night.

Qui-Gon let go of the whimpering man to stop himself from doing something he would regret once the blood-lust had been sated. His possible source of information scrambled away, leaving him yet again empty-handed and senses magnified as he instinctively sought out the source of the permeating scent of fresh blood.

He could always smell blood to some extent, whether it was as small as a cut on a finger hastily bandaged a block away, or something far worse. He stayed away from hospitals for that reason, the scent potent and taunting.

What he smelled now was too strong to be anything less than a bloodbath.

If Qui-Gon had been a younger vampire, he would have been lured to the source like a moth to a flame, but he was well used to restraining himself. He moved slowly through the streets, cautiously spiraling closer to the source. 

Eventually, he found the woman, gasping as she took her last breaths, surrounded by the pool of her own blood.

Whatever had ripped through her neck had done so purposefully, ensuring a painful and slow death. Qui-Gon didn’t approach, knowing that no matter how delightful the scent, the woman’s blood would soon be poisonous and deadly to him. Still, he stayed, watching from afar as the last rasping breath was taken and the life faded from her eyes.

The killer was nowhere in sight, either long gone or well hidden away, but Qui-Gon could smell the very human scent that tainted the young woman’s death. It seemed that Qui-Gon had found the first hint of his next meal.

* * *

  
The hydraulic hiss of the door woke Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon froze in his tracks, standing draped in his dark cloak once again with a grimace on his face that only deepened once he quietly shut the door behind him. Obi-Wan stared worriedly at him, wondering what could have riled the vampire. 

Qui-Gon only sent a grim glance Obi-Wan’s way before completely ignoring him, tossing a bag onto the comm table and ripping off his cloak, tossing it to the ground and dramatically entering the refresher. 

Obi-Wan clung to the sheets around him while he heard the pipes rattle as the shower was turned on. Had the vampire finally had enough of him?

Obi-Wan bit his lip, trying to decide what to do. He had cleaned up the best he could the night before, which meant his clothes were in the same refresher as the disgruntled vampire, so he really couldn’t get ready and leave unless he wanted to go out in the thin robe the hotel provided. 

Not really certain what he wanted to do, but too nervous to stay in bed, Obi-Wan picked up the cloak and folded it neatly before placing it on the ledge of the tub. His attempt at cleaning had been subpar and it still smelled of the sewers.

Maybe Obi-Wan should just leave, he still had his shoes at least. But the vampire didn’t seem angry with him. There was something else, elusive. His eyes had the same tinge of hungry yellow that had sent chills down Obi-Wan’s spine only a few hours before, so maybe that was it. Maybe his hunger was becoming stronger each day and his self-control was being pressed to the brink of collapse? But then again, the vampire had been out all night and could have easily eaten if he had wanted to. Obi-Wan had seen him in action and knew just how deadly he could be. It had to be something else— 

Obi-Wan rolled what it could be in his head over and over again until the vampire left the bathroom smelling of soap and covered in only a towel. Obi-Wan blushed and scrambled out of the bed only to have the vampire sweep past him to the comm table to grab the bag he had tossed there earlier.

“Well?” 

Obi-Wan stared, startled, as the vampire thrust the bag out to him.

“Uh,” Obi-Wan quickly took the bag and looked inside, only to feel warmth pool in his stomach. Qui-Gon had bought him breakfast again, this time it was Corellia egg wraps with spicy green sauce. 

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said quietly as he looked up, unsure how to deal with the sheer threat to his existence the vampire represented contrasted by the sort of happiness pooling in his heart.

Qui-Gon stared at him grimly for a moment before climbing on the bed and rolling away, clearly unhappy.

“Um…” Obi-Wan clutched the bag in his hands. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” The vampire answered shortly while Obi-Wan stared at him incredulously. That clearly was a lie.

“Uh, is there anything I can do to help?” Qui-Gon was terrifying, but he helped Obi-Wan over and over without ever being asked. There had to be something Obi-Wan could do too.

The vampire scoffed and pulled up the blanket that Obi-Wan had left rumpled at the edge of the bed and tossed the towel onto the floor soon after. 

Obi-Wan stared at the lump of blanket temporarily stymied. Even though Qui-Gon had given Obi-Wan food, he couldn’t do likewise, the vampire had made it clear that he killed whenever he fed. With a sigh, Obi-Wan settled onto the side of the bathtub to guiltily eat the breakfast Qui-Gon had given him. 

If Obi-Wan couldn’t help with food then maybe he could help with the next most important thing, shelter. They were in the hotel, for now, thanks to Qui-Gon’s money, but Obi-Wan had contributed the one thing that he had that Qui-Gon didn’t have.

“Um… Qui-Gon?”

The lump of blanket grunted and despite knowing what the vampire was capable of Obi-Wan had to fight the urge to smile.

“I was thinking, and... um, do you have any more money?”

That finally got a reaction. It was unsettling to have the vampire’s glare on him once again, but the yellow had faded from his eyes, leaving them almost entirely a deep shade of blue once again.

“What do you want?”

“Um, not for me. I was just wondering if, maybe, I could help you get some Identification, so, you know, you don’t have to, um…” Obi-Wan trailed off, unsure of himself as Qui-Gon’s expression went from suspicious to doubtful.

“You know someone who sells Identification?”

“No…” Obi-Wan admitted.

The breath seemed to go out of Qui-Gon as he turned back around. “I thought not.”

“I can ask around and find someone though.” Obi-Wan insisted, standing up.

“No,” Qui-Gon growled, cutting down Obi-Wan’s offer without explanation.

Obi-Wan folded his arms and stared at the lump in frustration. “...Are you worried about the cost?”

“No,” Qui-Gon said just as shortly.

“Then why—” Qui-Gon sat up, the thin sheet pooling around him, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wonder if all vampires were built so sinuously, strength veiled behind smooth skin. 

“I can take care of my own business. I suggest you do the same.”

Obi-Wan took a step back, hurt by the rebuke even though he should have expected it. The vampire was helping him out of pity, nothing more. Reciprocation was neither expected nor wanted.

“Right… okay, sorry.” Obi-Wan retreated to the refresher and softly closed the door behind him. He was being stupid, he needed to focus on figuring out what he was going to do in the next four days. Obi-Wan washed his face, and drank some water from the tap. It was still early, but he could walk to Dex’s. Obi-Wan dressed and slipped away with a quiet farewell that was unreturned.

Obi-Wan took his time walking to the diner, taking advantage of the daylight and a full stomach to explore the area. During the day, the streets lost the veil of shadow and showed their true age and neglect. Everything was the same dull gray from years of pollution. Coruscant had become the hub of the galaxy decades ago, bringing virtually every sentient being to its doorstop in the hopes that they could achieve their dreams. Instead, they became cogs in the wheels of industry, with only a few actually reaching their ambitions.

Obi-Wan had thought he was going to be one of the special ones, someone that made it out of the daily toil. If he just worked hard enough then eventually he’d be able to do what so many tried and be someone. 

He’d been stupid though and lost everything, while Bruck continued on in Obi-Wan’s place. Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around himself and picked up his pace. It was foolish to think about, no one had believed Obi-Wan and it didn’t matter anymore. He had more important things to worry about than old rivalries and hurts. 

It was a relief when he reached Dex’s, the distraction of possible work more than welcome. He knocked on the kitchen door without any answer. Obi-Wan shifted, unsure what to do, he was pretty sure the diner was open, but maybe Dex hadn’t been able to find anything for Obi-Wan and didn’t want to have to tell him that.

A bit hurt, but unwilling to give up quite yet, Obi-Wan leaned against the wall. He’d try again in a few minutes, but if Dex didn’t answer then… then Obi-Wan could look somewhere else. He knew he still looked, and smelled, a bit rough. It was hard to disguise his worn down clothes, but he had eaten more in the last few days than he had the entire last week. And he’d tried his best to spruce up in the refresher. He might risk heading to the more popular entertainment district that bordered the redlight district. He could try to get some work there, maybe.

The back door hissed open, “Obi-Wan!” Dex said happily, “Come on in! I thought I heard something! Sorry about making you wait—” Dex ushered him in, one arm holding the door while the other gently pushed Obi-Wan inside. “It’s been a bit slow today and I was trying to catch a bit of shut-eye. You look a bit pale kid, you want a glass of water?”

“Oh, no, I’m okay,” Obi-Wan said with the best smile he could muster. Dex looked tired and grungy, his shirt already stained from cooking that day. “Sorry I woke you up, if you want I could come back later so you could get some sleep?”

Dex gave a half-hearted chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck with one of his four hands. “Don’t worry about it kid, but, hey, I did find you some work!”

Obi-Wan straightened in excitement, “Really?”

“Ha, really, kid! I have a friend, Joey. He has an environmental unit that keeps on malfunctioning. Wouldn’t stop complaining about it last night after closing, so I told him about you, and he said to send you over! Do you think you could handle it?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the grin from spreading over his face if he tried, fixing an environmental unit would hopefully pay enough to get him at least a second change of clothes, maybe even a few nights at a hostel once the week was up.  
Dex gave him the details of how to get there, “He won’t open until around noon though, so huh, well, I thought about what you said about the flyers, and I have my regulars here, but it's been a bit rough so, I printed out these!” Dex grabbed a stack of adverts from his comm desk. “I know they don’t look like much…” Dex laughed self-deprecatingly, the flyers were basic, just black and white, but they showed some of Dex’s specialties and gave bare-minimum information about the Diner’s hours and location.

“These look great!” Obi-Wan said encouragingly, holding his hand out for them.

Dex grinned, “Ha, well let’s hope they get the job done! Anyway, I was thinking, if you could post these up for me, then maybe I could scrounge up some money from my marketing fund for you!”

“You don’t have to do that, Dex.” Obi-Wan smiled fondly at the Besalisk, the man was doing everything he could to help Obi-Wan, he was happy to do what he could in return. “How about, I take these and come back for lunch before heading over to meet your friend Joey, and we can count it as even.”

Dex hemmed and hawed, wanting to pay Obi-Wan for his help, but the man was equally cash-strapped. Obi-Wan ended up backing up with a stubborn grin and slipping out of the diner door with the flyers in hand. Dex laughed, calling out for Obi-Wan to come back once he was done.

If Obi-Wan had wanted to, it would have been easy to post the flyers on a couple of walls and be done with it, but he was determined to make sure that the effort Dex had gone through hadn’t been in vain. In order to hit more crowded areas, he had to walk further and deeper into the entertainment district, but in the end, he managed to post up all of the flyers Dex had given him. He’d just have to hope that people would notice and take a chance on the worn down diner.

He returned a little before noon empty-handed and to Dex’s warm gratitude in the form of Fried Endorian Tip-yip and tuber roots. As usual, it was delicious and filled him up, and gave Obi-Wan the time and courage to ask Dex about Qui-Gon’s Identification.

“Um, hey, Dex, you wouldn’t happen to know any way of getting Identification would you?”

Dex paused stirring a pot of stew, “Why would you need something like that, kid?”

“I don’t, it’s for a friend.”

Dex put away the spoon and turned to Obi-Wan with two of his hands on his hips.

“Really! I wouldn’t have the money anyway! But he’s helped me a lot and I want to do something to help him too.”

“Hmm,” Dex scratched at his chin with one hand while another two rested on his hips. “Yeah, I don’t know kid.” He grimaced as Obi-Wan looked back at him solemnly, “Send him to the diner, I guess, I’ll talk to him and see.”

“Thank you, Dex!” Obi-Wan took a step forward before hesitating, but the Besalisk wrapped his four arms around Obi-Wan in an almost breath-stealing hug.

“I hope things work out for you, kid. And if they don’t come to see me, ya hear? I’ll figure out something.”

Obi-Wan stumbled back once he was released from the hug with a laugh and eyes watering. “I will, I really appreciate everything!”

“Ah, sure you do.” Dex ruffled Obi-Wan’s hair despite his attempts to escape. “Get out of here, and let me know how it goes!”

“I will!”

Obi-Wan left soon after to meet Dex’s friend, who turned out to be a Toong who was a very stressed nightclub manager. He seemed unimpressed with Obi-Wan, but was strapped for time enough to let him have a go at the broken environmental unit. It took a couple of hours in the sweltering room to find out that it was the compressor (because it always was) and Obi-Wan couldn’t fix it without a new one. Joey seemed more irritated than relieved to know what the problem was and asked if Obi-Wan could buy the part for him before foisting a stack of credits into Obi-Wan hands.

Obi-Wan was back out on the street before he even knew what hit him, dazed with the number of credits in his pocket. The temptation of it weighing him down as he slowly walked away. 

He could just disappear. No one was following him, and in the city the size of Coruscant, it wouldn’t even be worth the effort to find him. The credits wouldn’t technically last him long, but it was more than he had ever personally held without a vampire waiting in the shadows, enough that Obi-Wan could buy clothes and food, and a bed at a hostel for a month. And then maybe Obi-Wan would be able to get a real job, maybe even as a real technician of some kind.

Lost in his thoughts, Obi-Wan stared at the ground as he walked, carefully avoiding people. The temptation to just take the credits and go was tantalizing. Everyone thought Obi-Wan was stupid for not taking advantage of opportunities like this, even the vampire had asked Obi-Wan why he wouldn’t just keep the leftover money. So maybe for once, Obi-Wan should put himself first and just do it?

The mechanical parts shop loomed ahead of Obi-Wan forcing him to decide.

But even while Obi-Wan daydreamed what he could do with the money he already knew what he would do. If he took the money and ran, the owner of the nightclub might not miss the money, but the manager would be left with an environmental unit that wouldn’t be fixed, and Dex would be the one held responsible for Obi-Wan’s thievery seeing as he had been the one to recommend Obi-Wan. 

And no matter how tempting it was, Obi-Wan didn’t want to be like Bruck, or any of the others.

He wanted to be better.

With a sinking heart, Obi-Wan went into the shop and asked for the needed part. He really was as stupid as Bruck always said he was, but he wasn’t willing to hurt others to help himself. Besides, he tried to comfort himself, his prospects were better than they had been in a long time. He could be patient and take the long way.

The shop was crowded with parts hanging from the ceilings and piled every which way along the walls. He could have probably looked for hours before finding the part, but the shopkeeper managed to retrieve it in only a few minutes after Obi-Wan showed her he had the money. The Twi’lek tried to upsell him, but Obi-Wan thankfully knew exactly what he needed, having helped at the Academy during off-hours. With the part in hand, he returned and began finally doing the repairs on the environmental unit. 

He felt his stomach rumble as he finished up the repair, and he glared down in reproach. He was getting spoiled with so much food in a day. He had eaten more than enough between breakfast and lunch, but… he did have the ration bars he had bought waiting for him back at the hotel. 

With that thought in mind, Obi-Wan wiped himself down the best he could and went to search for Joey, who was busy with the beginning of the night’s crowd beginning to trickle in, the heavy thump of music already vibrating through the dim room.

“Did you fix it?” Joey asked quickly, not even looking Obi-Wan’s way.

“Yeah, I think so, it should cool down in the next half hour.”

Joey grimaced, glancing at the dance floor. “Well, I guess that’s better than nothing. Give me a few and I’ll get you your pay.”

Obi-Wan nodded quickly and moved to get out of the way, choosing a dimly lit spot against the wall that was a little bit quieter than the rest of the floor.

“Hey kid, you want a drink while you are waiting?” A man with a mad grin and yellow tattoo across his cheeks called out from behind the nearby bar.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth in surprise, “Oh, um no, I’m not going to be here long.”

The man rolled his eyes good-naturedly and poured a glass of clear liquid before sliding it along the bar, “Don’t stress it, kid, it’s just water, and it looks like you need it. Besides Joey always takes longer than he thinks he will.”

Obi-Wan hesitantly approached the bar, tempted by the water after working on the finicky environmental unit for so long. He stayed close to the wall, not wanting to get in any of the paying customers' way. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” The bartender eyed him up and down as he wiped down the counter.“You the one Joey got to fix the environmental unit?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t quite stop the small smile from curling his lips at the acknowledgment, “Yeah, that was me.” Already the room was cooling down. 

“Well, then I owe you my thanks! Last night we had to shut down early when it went out, and Joey was saying no one could fix it for a week and here was no kriffin’ way the big boss would let us actually shut down that long, so I would have been out a week's tips while sweltering my nights away.”

Obi-Wan grinned back shyly, “I’m glad I could help.”

The bartender’s attention was caught by a customer ordering several drinks. So Obi-Wan awkwardly drank his water and looked around for Joey who had managed to disappear.

The nightclub was popular, and it was getting late. By the time Obi-Wan got back, Qui-Gon would probably be long gone. The vampire always left shortly after waking up. Obi-Wan wondered if it was because he had something to do or if he just didn’t want to be around Obi-Wan.

“Hey, kid!” The bartender grabbed his attention, “I know you’re probably already tired, but would you mind taking these drinks over to that table?” He nodded his direction towards the man who had ordered earlier, “Lestra obviously didn’t think we’d actually have the environmental unit up and running since she hasn’t bothered to show up. We’re getting someone else, but it’s going to be a few minutes and I could use the help.”

“Of course!” Obi-Wan traded his empty water glass for the tray of drinks and received a relieved grin from the bartender in return. 

“Great, the name’s Quinlan by the way.”

Obi-Wan quickly said his own and took the drinks over to the table. The group there shouted out which drink was theirs, which didn’t help much since Obi-Wan didn’t know the names of the drinks at the nightclub, but he managed to figure it out by watching who reached out to grab each drink. 

A bit relieved, Obi-Wan took the empty tray back to Quinlan who laughed when Obi-Wan confessed what had happened.

“No worries, I can help with that if you don’t mind sticking around a bit longer,” Obi-Wan was tired and hungry, but the empty hotel room could wait. Over the next half hour, Obi-Wan got a crash course into basic mixed drinks and cocktails.

“There you are. Quinlan, what the seven hells are you doing with the kid?” Joey greeted Obi-Wan gruffly before berating the bartender.

“Lestra never showed!” Quinlan said defensively before covering it with a charming smile, “And the kid’s doing great, had the drink list memorized in ten minutes!”

“He looks like he just crawled out of a puffer pig pen! No offense.” Joey said the last bit to Obi-Wan, who wanted nothing more than to drop the tray and leave as quickly as possible. He was suddenly all too aware of the grease stains that had gotten on his clothes making him look even more sloppy than when he had arrived.

“He could use a bit of sprucing up, but he’s great with the customers.” Quinlan said quickly, “And I could use some reliable help around here for a change.”

Joey scoffed and pulled out a stack of credits, “You’re lucky the boss didn’t see him, or he’d have both of our heads. Here you go kid, you saved my hide.”

“Thanks!” Obi-Wan said quickly, trying to hide the humiliation burning on his cheeks as he stashed the credits.

Quinlan had stopped what he was doing, his hands braced on the bar, “You’re seriously taking my only server away right now Joey?”

“He can’t serve looking like that!” Joey waved at Obi-Wan, who was just trying to slip away.

Quinlan swearing at Joey almost covered up Obi-Wan’s quiet goodbye, but he had only made it to the entrance when he was pulled back by the arm.

“Hey! Kriff kid, you ran off before I could give you your share of the tips.”

“It’s alright, Joey already paid me.”

“Yeah well, Joey can be a bastard and you didn’t have to help me out, this is for that.”

For the second time that night, Obi-Wan had another stack of credit chips shoved at him. It was a lot more than he expected.

Quinlan smirked at his surprise, “The drinks around here are pricey, makes for better tips, come back tomorrow and I can guarantee at least double that for working the night.”

Obi-Wan grimaced, “I think Joey made it pretty clear I wasn’t welcome.”

Quinlan scoffed and vaguely waved towards Obi-Wan, “Okay, you look a bit rough, but you have more than enough credits to get cleaned up. Get some black slacks and a black dress shirt and you’ll blend in no problem.”

“...Is that really alright?”

“Yeah I’ll talk Joey over, just spiff yourself up a bit. You have what it takes to be a server, just have to keep up appearances for the crowd,” Quinlan said with a wink.

Obi-Wan tried to smile in return, embarrassment still hanging over him, but this was the closest thing he had ever gotten to a job offer. “Yeah, okay, I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Great!” Quinlan gave a winning smile and slapped Obi-Wan’s back. “Uh, I better get back to the bar before Joey actually fires me, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Obi-Wan let out a breath as he saw Quinlan disappear. It felt too good to be true, but even if he was turned away, he still had a pocket full of credits that would give him time. 

Outside of the nightclub was almost as rowdy as inside. Obi-Wan had tried to avoid the streets of Coruscant after dark ever since meeting Qui-Gon and had no wish to linger. He weaved through the people on the street, trying not to gain attention, but it was almost impossible not to stick out. He could feel eyes latch onto him, and Obi-Wan nervously picked up his pace. He wasn’t far from the hotel, but for once he actually had something to lose. If he lost the credits from the nightclub, he’d have no way of buying the change of clothes that would allow him to work there again.

There was a large group he had to move around when suddenly a looming dark figure stepped in front of his path.

“Qui-Gon?!” Obi-Wan yelped as he stumbled back in order not to run into the other man.

“Where have you been?” Qui-Gon growled even as he helped steady Obi-Wan.

“I’ve been working. What are you doing here? Were you— were you looking for me?” The thought was so absurd that Obi-Wan didn’t think it could be true, but it felt right and Qui-Gon’s disgruntled glare didn’t do anything to deny it.

“You shouldn’t be wandering around alone at night.” Qui-Gon’s hand was already on his shoulder, and Obi-Wan didn’t try to pull away when he felt the man nudge him to start walking again. 

“It’s not that bad as long as I stay on the main road. I’m not entirely helpless.” Obi-Wan said as he tittered between being glad of the vampire’s company and feeling rather pathetic for being so. They made an odd couple, Qui-Gon swathed in black and Obi-Wan having clearly seen better days.

Qui-Gon scoffed, “Being around people isn’t the defense you think it is. Most would freeze or run if they saw someone get attacked. 

“Well by that measure, daylight is hardly any safer.” Obi-Wan pointed out even as he had to take two steps for every one that Qui-Gon took.

Qui-Gon grimaced and went silent for a moment, before much more softly saying, “There are some monsters that only come out at night.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach lurched, it was clear that Qui-Gon was talking about himself. He wanted to reassure the man that Obi-Wan didn’t think he was a monster, but it felt like it would only be an empty platitude. “Um… are there other vampires in the city?”

Qui-Gon shot a sharp glance his way, “No. Not as far as I can tell… but at least we only kill to feed.”

A shiver ran down Obi-Wan’s spine, Qui-Gon’s words had a sort of weight that made them feel somehow more real.

“I’ll be careful.” Obi-Wan conceded as they caught sight of the love hotel, “But I think I found a job at a nightclub.” They both knew that their current circumstances wouldn’t last, and that Obi-Wan needed the money if he wanted to stay off the streets. The hours a club would require would also mean Obi-Wan was out much later than even he was comfortable with, but needs must.

Qui-Gon eyed him incredulously, and once again Obi-Wan was reminded that no matter how much he tried it was still obvious he had spent time on the streets.

“What kind of nightclub?”

Obi-Wan didn’t appreciate the insinuation in the vampire’s voice. “A good one! I’m going to work as a server! And even if it was something like that, I hardly think you should be one to judge.”

The man bared his teeth, “Because I’m a vampire?”

Obi-Wan shifted nervously, “Everyone does what they have to in order to survive.”

The vampire huffed and stopped in front of the hotel’s door.

“You're not coming?” Obi-Wan asked, pausing as well.

“There’s no point,” Qui-Gon grumbled. “What nightclub is it?”

“The Serenno.” 

Qui-Gon began walking away almost immediately without a response.

“Wait!” Obi-Wan grabbed onto his cloak to stop him only to let go a second later when Qui-Gon stopped and glared at him, “I'm sorry, it’s just that I might have found someone who can help you with Identification.”

Qui-Gon’s brows furrowed, and Obi-Wan expected to be chastised, knowing that Qui-Gon had told him to leave the vampire's business alone, but instead of a rebuke Qui-Gon only asked “Who?”

“His name’s Dex. He runs a diner over on Ojom. He might be able to help you, but he wanted to talk to you first.”

“He makes Identification?” Qui-Gon’s brow rose skeptically.

“I don’t think so.” Obi-Wan said slowly, “But I think he knows someone who does. People don’t admit to making IDs lightly.” Not when it could land them half a lifetime in prison.

Qui-Gon rubbed his chin, “...Very well, I’ll find this... Dex.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip, suddenly wondering about the wisdom of this, “Maybe I should come with you.”

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes, “I hardly need a minder.”

“No, but I can show you where it is and make… you know, introductions?”

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon stared at each other for a prolonged moment until Qui-Gon sighed.

“Very well, lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear what you think :)


End file.
